


To Go Back

by Eleai



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: Gen, mini meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 01:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4160961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleai/pseuds/Eleai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She tries six times.  Every time, she comes back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Go Back

She tries 6 times.  Every time, she comes back.

The first time she tries, she is 15 years old and she has been out of the vault for 2 days 5 hours and 46 minutes.  She is not entirely sure the time is accurate—without the constant sunlight of the vault she can’t be sure when day bleeds into night—but the shift changes and mealtimes are regular enough she is as near to positive as she is going to be.  She makes it as far as the Western Gate before she is stopped.  The darkness seems deeper here than in the vault, but he stands out against the night.  She doesn’t startle, just stops still and stares.  At first she thinks he is a patrol and she has misjudged the time more badly than she thought, but then he levers himself into her path.  She still has a hard time telling them apart, these white painted boys with fire in their eyes and death in their souls, but she thinks he’s the War Boy who cut her hair two nights ago, old scarred hands and a hole where an eye should be.

“Nothin’ that way but sand and buzzards,” he says, “and it’d be a toss up to who gets you first.”

She says nothing, clenches her fists against the rage that spirals in her heart.

“Best wait,” he says into her silence, “time enough to die.”  He pauses, sniffs against the ever present dust.  “I’ll take you back before next change.  Get some sleep.”

He swings past her but she stays still, stares at the gate in front of her, at the wasteland it conceals.  That’s when he sees the bag.  She wasn’t able to take much, a few meal rations and a can of water, but it’s more than she knows she should have.  The cuff on the back of her newly shorn head is enough to make her stumble, and when he grabs off the bag it wrenches at her shoulder.

“Don’t steal from the Joe,” he says. “He gives us everything we need.”

She doubts that’s true.

***

The second time she tries she is 17 and it is her first time outside the walls in almost 2000 days.  The sidecar of the motorcycle she rides in is as unfamiliar as its driver but the gun in her hands is warm.  The road is as straight as their mission, a run of the mill recon before the War Rig returns from Gas Town.  There is nothing on the horizon and she settles in for a boring run when a rock catches her eye.  It’s indistinct enough to make her doubt for a second, but after a minute recognition sinks in and she remembers a path that runs east.  Before she can catch herself she yells “buzzards!” and they swing off the track and into the sand.

Off road the sand is looser, and it stings against her face as they drive.  “I don’t see them!” her driver yells, but every second takes her closer and despite the slap of sand and wind her chest feels light.  She’s lucky her driver’s as green as she is—the older Boys would never have believed her.  The roar of an engine behind them makes him turn, slow, and the road wavers back into sight in front of them.  The War Boy that pulls up alongside is pissed.  “What are you doing? Get back in line!”

She can’t talk around the sudden dryness in her throat, but her driver speaks for the both of them.  “Thought I saw a buzzard!”

“’s no buzzards out this way.  Just sand.  Get back to the road before I –“

The explosion cuts off his words with his head.  It’s the last thing she remembers seeing.

***

The third time she tries she is 23 and her new arm itches.  It fits better than the last, but Ace tells her they have more adjustments to do and give it time.  She still grips her wheel only in her right hand, feels the smooth leather against the palm of her hand, tries to ignore the tingle from the hand that was on her left.  It helps, a little.    

“It looks better.”

The voice comes from the alcove on her left, and she stops abruptly.  The girl is tall and thin, blond hair loose around her face.  Furiosa says nothing.

“Last time I saw you here, it was different.  Didn’t look at strong.”  Her eyes flick from Furiosa to the arm and back.  “This one suits you,” she says.

“I made it,” Furiosa responds, and she’s not sure why, but the difference matters.

A ghost of a smile runs across the girl’s face.  “It’s lovely,” she tells her, then, “would you like to come in for some tea?”

That night she takes her car, tells the guard she is going on patrol, and drives east towards a place she has only dreamed about until today.  She goes until the sun appears above the horizon and her gas tank is dangerously low.  When the Citadel appears in her windshield, she cries.

***

The fourth time she tries she is 27 and tomorrow she will be made an Imperator.  Angharad holds a party in the vault, eyes bright and scars as prominent as her belly, and Furiosa tells them the story of the green place again.  Capable leans against Angharad’s leg, the Dag curled up at her side, and their newest addition, a dark haired girl from the Bullet Farm, scratches words into Miss Giddy’s skin.   

She takes her bike that night, and two tanks of guzzoline, three guns and two canteens.  Ace looks concerned, but she tells him she needs to think, big day tomorrow, she’ll be back by first light.

She makes it farther than she ever has, pushes the bike hard, and comes to a canyon between the mountains.  She doesn’t see them but knows they’re there, remembers stories the boys tell of men on bikes and falling rocks.  Her bike is loud in the darkness and she can feel them watching.

_We are not things_ she thinks, and it is harder than she imagined to turn her bike around.  She lives in a prison made of stone, but on the road again, canyon at her back and Citadel ahead, is the first time she feels trapped.    

***

The fifth time she tries is not really a trial at all, it is reconnaissance, scouting, planning, and the throb of her missing hand keeps time with the beat of her heart.  She makes it back in record time.

 

***

The sixth time she tries she is 33, and she is not alone.  Her sisters are behind her, the fool is beside her, and when the Citadel looms into view, she feels hope.   

She leaves six times.  The last time, she comes home.  

**Author's Note:**

> This is really rough, but it's been knocking around in my head for a while and I had to let it out. This movie has captivated me.


End file.
